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She licked her lips. “We actually met before at East. Not formally, but you were there to see Gunner. I was the one who went back and told them.” She forced a smile. “I offered you a drink, and you declined?”
It was clear Trey had no recollection. Meanwhile, Dahlia had thought about it several times over the past months.
“And then, um…you were there another time, and I mentioned being on the waiting list for the position. We were standing by the door. Someone opened it, and it came flying toward my face. You grabbed it before it hit me.”
That memory would forever be ingrained in her mind. It had all happened so quickly that Dahlia barely had time to react, but Trey’s arm shot out before it could slam into her face. It was a hero-worship moment on her end. But from the look on his face, he had no recollection.
She waved her hand, then quickly noticed the small shake and tucked it under her thigh. “You probably don’t remember me.”
Trey’s gaze darkened. “I remember.”
Without any control, she smiled. He remembers me.
Trey cocked his head and squared his jaw. Obviously, he wasn’t remembering as fondly as she did.“You came into the club with Ryder and specifically paid for a drink when I told you not to.”
Oh shit. Why did that have to be the one time he remembered her? It wasn’t one of her finer moments. She’d overreacted. Maybe. Dahlia had been triggered. After waiting months just for an interview, she’d found out another bartender had been given an interview and hired by Trey without any waiting period. She shouldn’t have allowed it to bother her, but in some way, it had felt personal. She’d gotten a bit sassy with Trey and blatantly disobeyed his instructions. Now, I’m paying the price.
“Is defiance part of your work ethic?”
Hole, where are you—swallow me up.
“N-no, I’m sorry about that.”
She wiggled in her seat. The wet fabric sticking to her thighs and chest was not helping her ease into this interview. She grabbed the collar of her shirt, trying to form some space between the damp blouse and her black bra. Too much fidgeting had gotten her the wrong kind of attention. Trey was inspecting her hands, and ultimately, her shirt. He obviously lacked any interest in her, responding with a tight scowl.
“I usually don’t pair up a white shirt with a black bra.” She giggled nervously, feeling the prickling heat rise from her chest to her face. “I now realize the importance of making laundry day a priority. I had a few things going on and…” Dahlia waved her hand. “Well, I’m sure you don’t want to hear about that, though.”
“I don’t.”
Cold as fucking ice. Never once in her very few interactions with Trey had she gotten a warm fuzzy feeling. Hard nipples, wet panties, and an over-eager clit, yes, but this desire or infatuation was definitely one-sided.
He looked over at his computer.
“It doesn’t list your past employers for the last three years.”
She arched her neck, glancing over at his screen. From the distance, it was hard to make out the writing, but from what she gathered, it was the resume she’d sent over to Sloane six months ago. It wouldn’t be impressive to a man like Trey. Dahlia had barely graduated high school and never made any effort to further her education. It just wasn’t for her. She’d always worked but mostly lived paycheck to paycheck. It made paying expenses a bit harder but allowed her to live her life as she chose. Being a free spirit wasn’t necessarily great for her bank account, but it fed her soul.
Dahlia scooted to the edge of her seat. “Well, I bartended at East, and before that, Satan’s Hex.”
Trey slowly glanced over at her, arching his brow. If it wasn’t so intimidating, she would’ve found it extremely sexy.
“That’s your experience?”
There was no missing the condescending tone. She swallowed the lump in her throat. This was not going how she had planned.
“No formal training?”
“No, but um, I can make any drink. Grain, he’s a member of East, taught me everything, and trust me—” She laughed lightly then sobered up, realizing Trey’s glare made it evident he was not amused nor impressed. “He knows drinks.”
“Wine?”
“Not a lot of wine drinkers at the MC except for Lil. I know what she likes.” Dahlia chuckled, hoping to break the tension in the room. She failed. Again. Dahlia cleared her throat. “But I can learn.”
“We have over a hundred.”
A hundred what? Wines?
Her mouth fell open. “Different kinds?”
